


They Weren't There.

by StormyChaos



Category: The Lorax (2012)
Genre: M/M, omg im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyChaos/pseuds/StormyChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If they knew… if anyone knew… they’d think the worst of it. I’m sure even you are, but I did love him. For what reason exactly, I couldn’t tell you.<br/>If they were there, if you were there, you’d understand... Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Weren't There.

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic.  
> "They Weren't There" by Missy Higgins.  
> The Once-Ler's (Oncie's) perspective.

**“You breathed infinity into my world.”**

He came from seemingly nowhere, but I knew him well. He was, essentially, my best friend. Correction, he was the only friend I had for a very long time. He was the one in the mirror, after all. He never left, or treated me like the others and when I needed him most – he was there. And one day, he was real. I could finally touch him when, and where, I hadn’t been able to before. Instead of the cold, lifeless glass, there was warmth, flesh and affection.

**“And time was lost up in a cloud and in a whirl.”**

I can’t remember when he really came to be, or how it happened. It was so sudden and quick. When he came from my reflection from the mirror, I was terrified. He comforted me, hugged me and spoke little words of nothing to me. I fell asleep in his arms that day, and it felt like a week passed before he’d built a whole empire. I’d completely lost track of time… It took about a year or two. Not sure exactly, though.

**“We dug a hole in the cool grey earth and lay there for the night.”**

There wasn’t much privacy in the factory, and nobody ever did venture outside the city or factory into what used to be the colorful valley. There were days where he would have a message delivered to me saying to venture to one specific spot, not far from where my old house used to be. Our special area, where no one could bother us. He’d meet me there. Oddly enough, outside the factory he was gentle. Kisses, touches, and small pleasures were all supplied to me. We’d lose ourselves in the time as he’d make love to me differently than in – let’s say, for an example – his office. It was perfect. We’d stay out there for the whole night sometimes, and make it back early in the morning so nobody would notice our nightly absence.

**“Now my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found, but I was alive and now I’m drowned.”**

He was greedy, I knew this well. During the years of his rise and prime, I was nothing. He was at the top of the world, and when I felt like I should have been there with him… I wasn’t. He treated me like I wasn’t even anyone. I was a thing.

When I had been finally freed from home, it wasn’t long before I was chained again, but this time it was to myself. Funny, actually, how that happened. Freedom is something I’ll probably never feel.

**“You sighed and I was lost in you, weeks could’ve past for all I knew.”**

He was beautiful, though. Gorgeous even. Everything he did and said to me, I couldn’t help but feel myself give in. I remembered each touch, each word, and each tiny small sentiment I’m sure he wouldn’t remember. But, I remember it all well. There were times that when he did treat me like his other, and I could very well have lost track of time. Maybe he would spend hours, days even, with me and I wouldn’t know any different.

**“But they weren't there beneath your stare, and they weren't stripped 'till they were bare of any bindings from the world outside that room.”**

There were times when he’d get angry, really angry actually, and I was the only one who’d try and calm him down. I’d get calls sometimes asking to go calm him down from one of his tantrums. He really was so much like a child in that context. But, when I’d go to calm him down – words never did calm him, no. He’d back me up against a wall, the desk, the patio, the bed (if he’d managed his way to our room) or anything that would have me pinned between him and a hard place. His glittered blue shades were made to intimidate, and oh did they ever. I could see his piercing green eyes staring right into my scared blue ones. He’d get rough; stripping away any particle of clothing I wore and have his way with me. It wasn’t like when we’d go out to our little secret place away from everything that tied us down. He’d always emerge before me, and I’d come out later with bruises and cuts… And that was if I could walk. Nobody really truly understood what happened, but sometimes they’d hear my cries – they wouldn’t dare even think of intervening. What was I supposed to do? Tell them? No, I wouldn’t; couldn’t.

He’d learned how to get the world away from me and him, leaving me all to himself.

**“And they weren't taken by the hand and led through fields of naked land where any preconceived ideas were blown away...”**

On the times where he wasn’t having a fit, he was gentle and loving. To say the least, his whole behavior was so topsy-turvy. I _was_ him, he was _me_ , but I still didn’t understand what was going on in that head of his. On those upside days, maybe he’d arrive to bed late from work and he’d just come join me in bed. I’d always wake up when he had his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly like I may just vanish into thin air at any moment if he was any gentler but he’d hold me gentle enough to not harm me. He’d say a few words about work if I asked him, and I’d give him a little kiss that would get more passionate to the point where all of our clothes would be discarded on the sheets and the floor. He wouldn’t be rough, or hurt me, but he’d be soft and caring. It was strange just how much he changed in situations and others where he’d be out of control and others where he was the complete opposite.

**“So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song so they can tell me I was wrong...”**

I never did get help. Mom asked about it once, and only once. That was at the beginning of his rise, that’s when the marks began to appear. The little purple marks on my neck that trailed down and disappeared behind the safety of my white shirt, and when my lip had been cut open with traces of small teeth marks beside it. I brushed it off with a stupid excuse for a reason why, one of which I’ve forgotten by now. If they knew… if _anyone_ knew… they’d think the worst of it. I’m sure even you are, but I did love him. For what reason exactly, I couldn’t tell you.If they were there, if you were there, you’d understand. _Maybe_.

**Author's Note:**

> Omg. I'm sorry. I rushed this. I started with the end and the beginning, and the middle was kind of rushed and thrown together.


End file.
